One love

 

We've been in New York for over three years now. Three years. That's longer than we have ever lived anywhere together.

I'm not going to pretend that we know everything about the city, because the things we don't know outnumber the things we do. Definitely. Still, we have a pretty good lay of the land. We have favorite restaurants. We have favorite bakeries. Okay, I have favorite bakeries. Too many favorite bakeries. We have rituals and traditions. We generally know where we're going and know what to expect once we get there.

New York is still big enough and strange enough though, that we are sometimes completely surprised. Father's Day, for example. Who knew that, if you took the 2, transferred to the S, transferred again to the C, then once more to the A, you would end up somewhere so completely not New York? And that you would still in fact be in New York?

The Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge is way out on the edge of Queens. A quiet, wildlife spot within sight of the Manhattan skyline. Well, just barely in sight. Being there was like escaping the city. Birds took flight and landed in marshes. Ospreys hung out in their nests. We walked and walked, rarely encountering other people. 

Homes in the nearby neighborhood were built on the water, on stilts. Boats crowded together in little marinas. The roads were wide, and the houses had yards. Our pace got a little slower, our tastes a little less "New York" (dinner at a nondescript diner! Iceberg lettuce in our salads!). We shook hands at the end of the day (good job, sir!) and patted Nils on the head. A new adventure! Another story to tell ourselves someday down the road!

 Can you see the skyline? No?

What if I zoom in? Now?

Stopping to smell the green stuff

Snow falling on cedars

It's been a year since I've read a book. More or less. Reference books about babies not counting. It's been strange, since I have always - always - had a book on the bedside table, so to speak.  Being a "reader" is important to me; it's one of the ways I identify myself. It's how I've spent so much of my time. It's the closest thing I have to a passion. When I found my mind wandering last summer, and my efforts to rein it in didn't work, I decided that I had to let it go. "This is what happens to you when you're pregnant," I told myself. "Just give it a few months. You'll be back."

Then Nils came, and any thoughts of reading flew out the window. And it wasn't even that I was so busy or tired (which I was, of course). I just didn't want to read. Everything sounded boring and complex, and I knew I would just start a book and put it down 40 pages later. Or, if something finally caught my interest, the whisper of the opening pages sent a voice in my head to scold me. "Hm. Reading, are you? Wow. Didn't know you had so much time on your hands. And I suppose there's nothing else you could be doing with that time. Hm."

It was all well and good enough. I busied myself with household and logistical tasks while Nils napped, and watched delicious television with Oliver in the evenings. I went to bed early when I could. "You'll be back," I told myself while I chopped vegetables or folded laundry. "Don't sweat it."

I'd be lying if I said it didn't gnaw at me though, a bit. Who was I now? Was I just a mom? Had I lost parts of myself forever? Would I ever be able to sit down again and think long, drawn-out thoughts? Would I ever want to? Would I stop learning now? Would I just live through my child?

Then I picked up a book one day. Snow Falling on Cedars, a novel I had started some time ago and tossed aside. "I'll just read it on the subway to and from work," I said. "Just a little bit here and there." I read on the subway, and it was good. Then one night Nils fell asleep, dinner was ready, the apartment was clean, and Oliver called to say he'd be home in about 45 minutes. 45 minutes to myself! 45 minutes in a quiet house while the light turned golden before fading out. I stretched out on the couch , and there I stayed until the key turned in the door.

I finished the book today.

I'm back!

To my thoughtful, generous man

  

Happy Father's Day, dear husband! Thank you for giving our son those eyes. Among other things.

The rest of life begins

  

Last week I went back to work. It was both nerve wracking and not a big deal at all.

I've got what, to me, is the ideal setup. I think. I'm working part time, just two days a week for now. Maybe I'll kick it up to three in the fall, maybe not. I work two days in a row in the middle of the week, leaving me a nice five-day stretch to spend with Nils. My workdays are shortened too; six hours instead of your typical seven. I'm keeping up my skills and resume then, and having adult interactions without feeling like I'm letting someone else raise my son. This is a good compromise. Probably the best I can possibly get.

That first morning was hard (as were the several nights that preceded it). I wished for a way to make him understand why I was leaving and when I'd come back, but those sweet blue eyes were uncomprehending. Walking to childcare, I thought to myself, "this is unnatural! Why do we live in a society that forces us to separate from our children so soon?" Would he cry all day? Would he feel panicked and abandoned? Would I feel panicked and neglectful? Turns out we were both fine. He was all smiles when I dropped him off in the morning and all smiles when I returned. He'd had a good day, I was told. He'd only cried once. He's a cool cat, that kid. For my part, I was able to both focus and catch up with co-workers. The day sort of flew by; imagine that. I'll go back in twice this week, and will probably freak out just a little tiny bit.

So all is well. Having been through time at home with my baby and the return to work though, I can now say with confidence that I like being at home. I like it better than being at work. Raising Nils is such an amazing thing, and I know it's only going to get better as he gets older. There's so much I want to teach him.

Work is great too, of course.  I plan to continue doing it. I'm just so glad that I can do it on a part-time level for now.